


not what it looks like

by givebackmylifecas



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givebackmylifecas/pseuds/givebackmylifecas
Summary: Sergio meets Martín for the first time and gets a little bit confused about Martín and Andrés' relationship
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Professor | Sergio Marquina, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 22
Kudos: 96





	not what it looks like

**Author's Note:**

> TWs: canon-typical swearing and derogatory language
> 
> absolute speculation based on [these](https://twitter.com/thorined/status/1329744791945428998) pap pics of rodri, pedro, and alvaro filming

When Martín wakes, he thinks the pounding in his head might kill him. His mouth is dry and tastes like something died in there. Someone is knocking insistently at the apartment door and Martín ignores them. Beside him, Andrés makes a noise halfway between a groan and a whimper as he shoves his head into a pillow and if Martín were feeling less like a resurrected corpse, he’d laugh at him.

“Get the door,” Martín tells Andrés, reaching out to prod him in the back.

Andrés murmurs something unintelligible and then the bastard just goes right back to sleep. Since it’s not his flat, Martín decides to do the same thing and curls further under the blankets, pressing his cold toes to the back of Andrés’ leg, an arm thrown over his waist. The knocking has finally stopped and Martín is so close to being asleep again when the bedroom door opens, flooding the room with sunlight.

“Andrés why aren't you answering your d – oh,” a voice says and when Martín opens his eyes, squinting into the light, he sees someone standing in the doorway. The person is a man about Martín’s age, bearded, and wearing glasses, and Martín recognises him immediately from the photo Andrés keeps on the mantel. He shuffles upright and kicks Andrés hard in the ankle.

“Wake up, your brother is here,” he says loudly and Andrés jerks awake.

“Sergio?” Andrés says, sitting up with a yawn and leonine smile. “I thought you weren’t coming until Wednesday, hermanito?”

Sergio, who has flushed a bright red, shakes his head. “Tuesday – I uh, called and left a message. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

“I don’t have company,” Andrés says, drawing out the word. “It’s just Martín.”

“Fuck off,” Martín tells him lazily, even as Sergio is backing out of the room.

“I’ll wait out here for you to put clothes on,” he tells them, shutting the door behind himself.

Martín frowns at Andrés. “I’m wearing underwear, aren’t you?”

He receives a raised eyebrow and an “Of course” in reply.

Andrés sighs, throwing back the covers getting to his feet and pulling on pyjama bottoms. He picks his jumper off the back of a chair and pulls it on. Martín rolls his eyes at him.

“Of course you have a jumper that matches your pyjamas.”

Andrés looks down at the complementary shades of blue he’s wearing. “Dressing appropriately is important no matter the time of day, Martín.”

“Not if you’re this fucking hungover,” Martín tells him, climbing out of bed and into some sweatpants.

Andrés throws a sweatshirt at him and then leaves the room, presumably to find his brother. Martín puts on the jumper and then goes looking for the socks he threw on the floor at some point during the night. The search is made slightly more difficult by the fact that he has to take a break to try and convince his stomach not to heave up his dinner from last night. By the time he has his socks on and has stumbled out into the living room, Andrés and Sergio are sat at the dining table drinking coffee.

“Where’s mine?” Martín asks, gesturing at their mugs.

“In the kitchen, go make your own,” Andrés says, smirking when Martín swears at him.

Sergio looks confused when Martín walks past him and fetches his own coffee, but doesn’t speak until he’s joined them at the table.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Sergio,” Martín says. “Andrés talks about you all the time.”

Sergio smiles hesitantly. “It’s good to meet you too.”

Andrés looks between them with a smile and Martín focusses on his coffee.

“So, Andrés, what happened to that ballerina you liked so much?” Sergio asks.

Andrés frowns. “Nothing, I’m seeing Gianna for dinner this evening.”

Sergio’s brows pull together. “You’re still dating her?”

“Yes,” Andrés says slowly. “She’s the most wonderful woman, Sergio, I think she might really be the one. She’s truly a magnificent dancer – and so beautiful. Martín, tell my brother about how beautiful she is!”

Martín sighs. “She’s a wonder. Venus herself pales in comparison to Gianna and her magic pu-“

“That’s enough,” Andrés says while Sergio chokes on his coffee. “Martín, por favor, I’ve asked you not to speak of her that way.”

Martín smiles innocently at him. “No, you told me not to do it in front of her.”

Andrés scowls in a way that’s more fond than angry and Sergio looks over at Martín. “Wait, you’ve met her?”

“I introduced them,” Martín says casually, confused when Sergio’s eyes widen. “I did a favour for her father and he got me tickets to one of her performances.”

Sergio’s head whips round to look at Andrés. “So, she knows?”

Andrés laughs, as does Martín – as if they’d tell Gianna about the Bank of Spain. “Of course not, hermanito.”

Sergio sighs. “Andrés, you shouldn’t lie to her. It always leads to problems, especially with your women.”

“It’s a lie of omission if anything,” Andrés says dismissively.

“What if she finds out?” Sergio demands and Martín honestly hadn’t thought Andrés’ brother would be that concerned for their plan when by all accounts, he’d been thoroughly uninterested the last time Andrés saw him.

Andrés frowns. “I don’t see how she would, it’s not like we do it out where anyone can see. We’re careful.”

Sergio scoffs. “Are you? I just walked right into your flat and saw you.”

Andrés looks entirely confused as he exchanges a look with Martín and then squints at his younger brother.

“Sergio,” Martín says carefully. “What the fuck are you talking about? I thought you didn’t care about our plan?”

Sergio puts his mug down with a thud. “Your plan? I don’t care about your suicidal plan, I’ve told Andrés already that it’s impossible. I’m talking about Andrés cheating on this woman with you and her messing up the other heists he’s planning. He’s been on the police’s radar too often already.”

It’s Martín’s turn to choke on his coffee and Andrés absentmindedly pats him on the back as they both stare at Sergio, aghast.

“You think I’m sleeping with Martín?” Andrés asks at the same time as Martín yells “You think Andrés is fucking me?”

Sergio blinks at them. “You were in bed together.”

“Not for that,” Martín mutters.

Andrés shakes his head with a laugh. “Hermanito, Martín was simply staying over after we had too much to drink last night.”

“Why didn’t he stay on the sofa?” Sergio questions.

“Because it fucks up my back,” Martín replies and Andrés nods, still looking amused.

Sergio looks between the two of them and then releases a loud sigh. “Fine. So you’re just friends?”

“Of course,” Andrés says with a laugh. “What else?”

His hand is still on Martín’s back, radiating warmth and Martín refuses to lean into it. Sergio still doesn’t look convinced and Martín is definitely not getting in the middle of Andrés’ brother’s weird theories about them. He drains his coffee and gets to his feet, shaking off Andrés’ hand.

“Sergio, it was good to meet you, but I might leave you two to it and go home. I need a shower,” he says.

Andrés frowns. “You can shower here. I bought more of that shampoo you like.”

Sergio’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and Martín shakes his head. “No, it’s okay, I need my own bed and new clothes”

“Well, alright,” Andrés says, his lips pulled into a displeased frown. “Will you come back later? I’m going to dinner with Gianna and I thought you and Sergio could join us.”

Martín shrugs. “I was going to go out to some bars. I haven’t been a while.”

Andrés shakes his head, still frowning, but he looks more indulgent now. “Of course, what would the men of Barcelona do, if they couldn’t run into your loving embrace at the end of the night?” he teases. “One of these days, you’ll find someone to settle down with Martín.”

A surprised laugh tears from Martín’s throat, and he hopes Andrés doesn’t hear the bitterness in it.

“Not everyone is destined for great romance, Andrés,” he tells him, slipping on his shoes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe.”

“Tomorrow,” Andrés confirms. “Come for breakfast.”

It’s not a request so Martín just nods and heads for the door.

“It was good to meet you,” Sergio calls awkwardly and Martín throws a wave over his shoulder hurrying out of the flat.

Out on the street, he takes a moment to breathe and light a cigarette. He looks back up at the flat and thinks of Andrés’ warmth next to him in bed and how he smiled when he talked about Gianna. He thinks of Sergio’s discerning gaze and how Andrés had laughed when his brother asked if they were just friends.

“Well fuck,” he says and starts walking back to his empty apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> okay twas shit i know, leave a kudos/comments anyway to stop me from crying? or you know, just come scream at me on tumblr ([@hefellfordean](https://hefellfordean.tumblr.com)) or twitter ([@angstypalermo](https://twitter.com/angstypalermo)) if you like


End file.
